Calling out to you
by doctorholmesintheimpala
Summary: it was just a normal, every day job, but Sam gets possessed by a particularly sneaky, malicious demon. Dean exorcises the demon when he realises what's going on. But when Sam can't remember much about being possessed and Dean is all of a sudden avoiding him, he starts to worry that the demon let his best kept secret be known to his brother. Wincest - rating will change.
1. Chapter 1

It seems like every day will always be the same. And that's not particularly a good thing. They'll drive to who knows where to ice who knows what and get thanked by strangers. Sometimes they don't even get thanked. He's getting so sick of the motels, diner food, salt and burns, driving in the impala. At the moment, aside from saving people which is great, the only good thing about this job is Dean whom he gets to spend his days with. He will save Dean from the demon deal, he promises himself that. Whenever he thinks about it, his gut twists like a cloth trying to ring out water and he feels like he's being stretched out and thrown across the room, but can't get a hold on anything. It's like he wouldn't belong anywhere without Dean, he'd just shift through towns and life. Dean is his only ever constant that he appreciates.

Dean slowly rounded the corner to pull into the small motel in Illinois at about 8pm just as the sun was setting, the dull sky looming above. The familiar sound of tyres on gravel roused Sam from his slumber mid dream. He kept his head where it was; leaning against the cold glass, but his hazel eyes blinked away the darkness and grogginess that he'd let himself fall into a few hours ago to bring him back to reality. His whole body carried a dull ache from lying too still for too long. He stretched as much as was possible for his lengthy limbs in the compact space of the Impala before picking up the case reports which lay sloppily on his lap and shuffling them into some kind of not ordered order. They were the same as any other case reports he's held on his lap about a million times; just another town with another strange occurrence and another death. Just another job.

'Get a move on sleeping beauty'

The sleepiness was still pumping through his veins, pushing a lazy feeling to all of his muscles via his blood and he inwardly groaned when Dean stepped out of the car, heading towards the motel reception. He dragged his dead weight out of the door and grabbed their duffels from the trunk then leaned against it. Dean came back with a key to room 5 and a small smile playing at his lips. Sam couldn't help it, he was curious.

'What?'

'The receptionist looks like a lot of fun, that's what'

Dean's grin widened and Sam felt a weird twinge in his stomach that he couldn't quite put his finger on, or maybe he could, he knew exactly what he was feeling, but chose to ignore it. In any case, he just shoved Dean's duffel at him and mumbled a 'come on' before heading to their room. It was the same as any other room they'd stayed in. When he stepped in he actually thought they had been there before. The overpowering smell of disinfectant burnt his nostrils but the small room didn't look especially clean and the wallpaper made him feel light headed if he stared at it too long. Sam lets out a disappointed sigh, he always feels let down, he expects one day maybe they'll enter a motel room that's actually welcoming instead of making him want to sleep in the car instead, but that day can't come soon enough.

He lies the files out on the wooden table stained with god knows what and begrudgingly glances over them again. They'd come here because people had heard strange sounds coming from the Illinois Caverns and apparently it smelt unusually foul around the area. Supposedly, there had been a sighting of a frightening looking creature, but that was by some lonely old lady who likes to wear her glasses on top of her head instead of in front of her eyes, so not the most reliable source_. _There had also been a few deaths but he couldn't find a connection scrunches up his face, this hunt was definitely a long shot, but it was the first thing they'd heard of for a while and just stooped up and aimlessly driving around was making them both go a bit stir crazy.

'Wanna hit a bar and go up to the caves when it's dark? I saw one up the road'

'You go, I'll stay here, might go to bed'

'Come on Sammy, live a little!'

'I don't drink on the job'

'We could ask the locals at the bar if they know anything'

'By that you mean you can chat up the chicks and get pissed'

'Bitch'

'Jerk'

He smiled to himself at that then looked to his brother to make sure he wasn't actually pissed off. Dean was already sprawled across his bed, the one closest to the door as always, fully clothed and he looked exhausted. Apparently, he'd decided not to go out after all. Sam didn't feel much like sleeping himself, he just didn't feel like going out. Well, he didn't feel like watching Dean flirt with everything with a pulse. None the less, he climbed into his own bed for brother's sake who had ever lasting dark circles under his eyes like it was some kind of fashion statement. He flicked off the light, noting that it didn't actually make much difference because the crappy bulb was so dim, and flopped down on his own bed. It was too hard; he could feel the springs digging into his ribs, poking him as if they were taunting him about hardly ever getting a good sleep. He sighed and rolled over to face a peaceful looking Dean, suddenly he didn't feel so dispirited. Dean made him feel safe, happy and loved. He slowly floated away into unconsciousness with thoughts of Dean accompanying him, just like every other night. It seems that thinking of Dean and managing to fall asleep go hand in hand together.

ooo

The caves are just black holes on the deep blue sky ready to swallow anything up that dares enters, the line where the cave stops and the sky begins is hardly even distinguishable. There is a disgusting smell, just like the articles stated so he starts to hope this is there kind of thing. He's tired of doing basically nothing. It gives him too much time to think, the clocks in his brain turning backwards to make him feel things he wants to forget. He clicks his flash light on and Dean follows suit, casting two circular blankets of yellow-white light on the muddy ground. Dean looks at Sam and gives an encouraging nod towards the caves before carefully walking towards them. Sam trails behind, trusting his brother as always.

Its slippery inside and the smell of damp and moss are overwhelming. He doesn't understand how Dean is navigating them, every crevice they squeeze through looks the same to him, as does every spherical space that the crevices lead to. Just a load of brown rock, ugly as it is boring. It's cold in the confined, secluded holes so he pulls his jacket tighter around him with his free hand.

'Dean, come on, there's nothing here'

'The smell is a bit stronger here. I think I can fit through this gap to check it out.' Dean smirks at Sam 'You might have to stay put, Sasquatch'

_Ass. _Sam thinks as he watches Dean get out his gun and shuffle through the space. Luckily he can fit through too; he didn't like the thought of Dean having no back up. Once inside of the new and biggest yet compartment of the caves, he studied everything he could for clues. The first thing was the stench. It smelt like rotten eggs. Breathing it in made his eyes water and he gagged, it was truly disgusting.

'Ugh, Smells worse than a fricken orc in here dude'

He just gives a small hum in response because it's much too interesting in the cave to really listen to the daily crap Dean comes out with. The second thing was the brownish-red pile in the corner. _What is that? _Sam narrowed his eyes as if squinting would make light come out of his eyes and cut through the dark. Then he remembered his torch, but he kind of wished he didn't. It was a pile of hearts. Human hearts at a best guess. They were small, so they most likely had belonged to children. Sam noted how they were all in the same spot, most creatures would be more careless and just leave parts of their collections anywhere, this monster was obviously organised. He thought that that should scare him a bit, dealing with an organised creeper would make the job harder, but mostly he was thankful; he hated it when he accidently steps on some guts or whatever. He went through everything he could remember that takes hearts in his head, but it could be a lot of things so there was really no point. The soft sound of his footsteps reverberated off the walls as he walked around. There was another pile of hearts that seemed to be shrivelling, like something was drying them out somehow.

'Sammy, come take a look'

He turns and strides to stand next to Dean, their shoulders brush as they examine what was laid out on a ledge. Around ten amulets, all shaped the same were staring back up at them. _Where have I seen these before?_ Sam searched his brain until he found the answer. He'd seen it in a book.

'It's an amulet to protect against magic, I read that a lot of supernatural beings use them so no one can go use magic kill them, but I've never actually seen it until now'

'huh, looks pretty cool'

Sam watches as Dean picks one up and twiddles it in his fingers.

'You might not wanna do that'

'Why? What's the worst that could happen? I don't get abracadabra'd to death?'

'Why do you think something is shrinking and hardening hearts in here'

He has to strain to hold back a giggle that's bubbling in his throat, threatening to roll up and burst free. But he can't help it, the look on Dean's face when he catches on that the amulets are made of hearts is priceless. Dean throws the amulet back down.

'That's fucking gross'

Sam lets a small snigger escape.

'Enjoying yourself, Sammy? Come on, let's get out of here.'

It takes them a while to find their way out of there, it's just all shoving their way through gaps and bumping their heads against rocks until they eventually stumble out. _Finally. _They lean against a rock for a while, catching their breath from all the climbing. Rocks dig into his back and it feels like the too many times the barrel of a gun has been in the same position. He shifts his weight trying to get comfortable, but it's useless. The crisp air outside feels refreshing against his skin and it's only then he realises just how stuffy it was in the caves. Stars are shining in the sky above, Sam wonders what it would be like to live in that black ocean, surrounded by nothingness. Would it be lonely or peaceful? He guesses the latter, because the way they emit brightness doesn't really shout 'depression'. He kind of resents them for that which he knows is dumb, because they're just stars and they can't really feel anything but he's in been in a pissy mood all the time lately.

He turns his attention to Dean, whose face is tilted upwards, eyes gazing. It reminds him of the good old days, well as good as the days got, when they would just sit outside and talk and be teenagers. That didn't happen often though, they were only teenagers for short amounts of time here and there because they were required for all intents and purposed to be adults. Sometimes he didn't even think of them as adults, rather as tools in their dad's mission. It was those memories, where they could get a break to laze around or get an ice cream or just talk or anything other than hunting that he held onto, because they were the best he had. Best memories or not, they didn't make him happy, they actually made him feel a sense of longing and heart break knowing they will never get that chance to go back live life like that. Dean will never get to live his life right. He will never get to live a normal life. It was times like those when he realised just how much he hated hunting.

'So you got any clue what it could be?'

Sam registers Dean's voice in the back of his mind, but he doesn't really concentrate on the words and it doesn't even occur to him to answer. He just silently studies Dean's profile. The darkness and the rocks cast unusual shadows on Dean's face and make it difficult for Sam to makes out the faint freckles he knows are there. His eyes travel down the slope Dean's nose to his pink lips. He notices how full they are, set in a nearly permanent straight line. It's not until Sam looks at Dean's glossy green eyes that seem to stand out against his darkened face that he snaps back from his thoughts. Dean is staring at him questioningly but for the life of him he can't remember what Dean said.

'Dude, stop checking me out'

_Oh shit. _Sam panics for a moment, his heart leaping to his throat thinking Dean has caught on, but then Dean slaps him on the shoulder and he knows it was a joke. Forcing out a slight laugh, he slaps him back.

'You wish'

_I'm such a freak. No, don't think about it now. _He frantically tells himself because his mind seems to desperately want to drown him in guilt. But concentrating on Dean had calmed him down, made him feel whole and he doesn't want to go back to any negative emotions. _Concentrate on what he's saying._

'Well? Is the great nerd stumped or do you have an idea of what it could be'

'It's a Sigbin'

'A what?'

'A Sigbin. They are small creatures with shorter front legs and longer hind ones. Apparently then walk backward with their head between its legs, I guess just to look more spooky. They come out at night but only at certain times of the year to kill children and create amulets with their hearts.'

'That's great, how do we gank it?'

'There isn't much lore on that, well none that I've seen anyway. Our best bet would probably be to set it on fire, but the little bastard can turn invisible to humans, so it can sneak up on its prey.'

'Fantastic' Dean's tone is dry and sarcastic. 'How do you know all this anyway, dad never hunted one'

'I read it'

'Do you just like, read for fun?' Sam draws a breath to answer but Dean holds up a hand 'Never mind, I don't wanna know. I'll go get the flame throwers, you keep watch'

'Keep watch for something that can make its self invisible?'

Dean didn't answer, he was already striding away. Sam considered racing after him and demanding they switch positions, but in all honesty he didn't really care, he was just being awkward. He ducked behind a large rock, letting his hands fall onto the damp grass and twiddling it between his fingers while he waited. His mind drifted between thoughts, shifting from memories of the past, perspectives of the present and hopeless, deluded predictions of the future. After a while, his train of thought, usually all grey steam billowing out and making everything hazy and wheels screeching on the tracks from rapidly going nowhere in particular, slowed until it came to a standstill at Dean.

He doesn't know when he realised his feelings for Dean were something other than just brotherly. That's probably because he didn't just suddenly realise it at all. He kind of just grew into it, like it was always there waiting for him to catch up and now it's just another bad part of him. It was like someone just grabbed a brush and painted red all over a clean, white sheet of paper, but the paper underneath the new colour deforming it is still there, so it's technically still paper. With him and Dean, it was just a new emotion, but all the rest, all the innocent ones, were still there at the base of it all. Those emotions just gave the perfect canvas for the new one to fit perfectly, like they were meant for that purpose.

Sometimes he tricks himself into thinking anyone would feel the same in his situation. They aren't exactly normal brothers. Normal brothers don't spend their lives in each other's pocket. Sam worships Dean, idolises him, Dean is a hero to him. Dean spent most of his life hunting demons for 'the family business' as he likes to call it, but he still manages to make protecting Sam his main priority. So much so, he sold his soul for him. But, even though they spend more time with each other and are much, much more co-dependent than brothers should be, they still always acted like brothers. Hugs here and there, arguing over insignificant things, playing pranks on each other and helping each other out when they need it. So, Sam knows this is all on him. It's not the life they've lived, it's him. _I'm just as sick as twisted as ever. _

Sitting in the grassy muddy mixture now because he got tired of crouching, he zoned out. Thoughts taking him elsewhere, some place beyond this reality but still one of the most painfully real truths he knows. That's why he doesn't notice when four figures approach him and why he's so shocked to the core when two of the males are abruptly pinning him down. _Damnit. _There are three men and one woman, all eyes black and burning into his skin. One of the men is standing tall over him and giving him a sly grin, trying to be intimidating.

'That was almost too easy Sammy boy, you should learn not to let your guard down without your precious brother to protect you' he almost growls the words.

'What do you want? Where's Dean?'

'He's fine, don't worry about him... yet.' The demon chuckles, it doesn't sound happy though, more sinister. 'at least not until we're done with you.'

'What do you mean?'

The demon doesn't answer, he just gives this look to the woman that suggests he's got something up his sleeve. Sam stains his muscles, trying to fight his way free, but the grasp the other two men have on him is too strong. He can't see the ones holding him down but the man in front is lanky, dressed casually and has a shiny bald head. The woman is a little plumper, not fat by any means, just bigger than the guy. She has long, curly blond locks, high cheek bones and spotless skin. Sam would think she's pretty if it weren't for the two ugly, cruel black holes dug into her face. She pulls out a knife, short but sharp and it glints with reflections of the moon when she idly twists in her palm.

'Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit'

All too fast, she's leaning over him and pulling his shirt down. He can't think straight, he just struggles harder but he can't see a way out. It's not until he feels an inscrutable pain in his chest that he catches on to what she's doing; cutting a chunk of skin where his possession protection tattoo is. It hurts too much, he can feel the warm blood trickling down and can smell the familiar metallic smell so strongly he swears he can taste it. Shouts in pain, shouts for Dean, shouts of curses are all cut dead by the cloth shoved into his mouth. _When did that happen? _The sting is still there when she finishes her job with a proud expression, a sting that feels sharp and prominent where the cut was made and travels through his body making him feel weak and full of adrenaline at the same time. Gritting his teeth through the hurt, he tells himself Dean will be here soon. However, he'd be lying if he said he knew that for sure or if he said he wasn't scared. He was trapped and had no clue, not one what was going on or why.

The man smirks again, evil and dark. Sam tries to shout to let him go but the malicious bastard just laughs.

'Just need a bit of inside information on the doing-the-world-a-favour Winchesters'

Black smoke pours out of the man's mouth like a swarm of flies. _Please no. _The last thing Sam sees is the woman relentlessly snapping the now just a vessel's neck before his world is covered by the thick, dark smoke, his eyes blur and his mind goes slack and he feels something odd, something burning in his throat, clawing at the sides.


	2. Chapter 2

The grass is damp beneath his feet and the wetness wipes away small specks of dirt on his boot as he closes the trunk of the impala, fire thrower in hand. His hand strokes over the smooth metal before he makes his way back to Sam, feet making an obscene squelching sound when they collide with the swampy earth.

The air is brisk so he wraps his jacket around himself a little tighter. A brief moment passes where he thinks about warming up hugging Sam, he dismisses the thought within the next step across the boggy ground. He pretends he never thought about it, just like he always does.

'Sam?'

He keeps his voice hushed just in case there's a creepy ass Sigbin lurking around that he can't see. But, when there's no answer from his brother, he shouts louder. _Fuck it _he thinks. It not like he wouldn't be prepared if the monster came lunging at him, he has the flame thrower tightly gripped in his right hand after all.

When Sam doesn't answer after three shouts, each louder and more worried than the last, he begins to fear the worst. Now, there aren't many things that he's scared of, fear was sort of beaten out of his system by the many times he had to go up against a monster when he was just a boy. He had to learn not to be scared because that would give the monster an advantage and that would inevitably end up in him being dead and then who would look out for Sam? Fear was almost an unknown emotion to him. Almost. Flying made him freak out a little, made him loose his cool but it was nothing compared to the thought something might have happened to his brother. He needs Sam, loves him, and can't live without him. A psychologist would probably pay millions for a session with him, talking about Sam; his mind has got to be some kind of fucked up but interesting mess. That's how he sees it anyway.

He scours the long stretch of land. Everything is black holes in rocks, grass, mud and more rocks. Whenever there's a hunt, he gets sort of excited; it's something to do to fill up the long hours that stretch out before them. Frantically, he peers behind every rock. _Where the fuck is he? _

When he spots Sam, limp against a rock, he can't even think for a moment, can hardly even breathe. It feels sort of like he's dead, or what he imagines it would be like to be dead. But then adrenaline kicks in and he sprints forwards, not realising he dropped his fire thrower in his haste to get to Sam. He hears his voice shouting out Sam's name lingering in the air, but it sounds distant and fuzzy over the blood thumping in his ears. _Oh god no. _The panic feels like it's trying to trap him, like it wants to bring him to his knees before he can reach the still body and for a moment he thinks it will, he thinks he might just give in and black out and be helpless, but he keeps going. Anything for Sam.

Upon reaching Sam, he puts a palm to his cheek and moves his head to look at him. Sam's eyes are open and slowly but surely, blinking. _Thank God. _He knows he shouldn't really let himself get so worked up when he doesn't know the whole story, but it's like it's out of his control, he sees Sam hurt and everything but terror flies out of the window. That worries him a little bit. Sam shouldn't be the only handle he's got to keep himself sane. He knows that is not at all healthy.

'Sam, what the hell happened?'

He could see blood seeping through Sam's shirt. _Idiot. Why did I leave him alone?_

'Sigbin' Sam coughs a little as Dean smoothes a thumb under his eye before he crouches to wrap a hand around his waist to haul him up. 'I tried shouting'

'Come on, back to the motel'

He drags Sam's slack, heavy body to the Impala. He wonders when Sam got to be such a giant, he still remembers when he had a scrawny little frame that looked sort of delicate, like his bones would break if he fell. Now though, it's a whole different story and Dean has trouble attempting to schlep Sam to the car without dropping him or falling. It takes them double the time it should, but they reach the shiny black impala and Dean props Sam up against the door to open the door for him before shoving him in. He tried to be gentle but it's harder than it looks to get an injured person into a car, Sam didn't complain though. In fact, for a moment, a very brief moment, he's sure he sees Sam smirk. Actually smirk like people do when they know something you don't. Shaking his head a little, he pushed away the thought, puts it down to Sam's crooked attempt at smiling to say thanks. _He shouldn't have to say thanks. I'm supposed to protect him. _He climbs into the rivers side, starts the engine and speeds off, not bothering to finish the job or even collect the fire thrower he dropped earlier. His mind was set on getting Sam far away.

ooo

The neon signs cast a red and green glow onto the dirty motel carpet, and it gives Dean a headache. With a sigh, he closes the too thin curtains and then goes back to Sam who was currently sat on the end of one of the beds. His concern had multiplied itself by about one hundred since he dragged Sam off the ground. He'd asked Sam repeatedly if he was ok, to which he replied he was but, there was something odd about it all. Sam didn't seem like himself, he'd been wearing the same blank expression ever since that possibly imagined smirk and he didn't seem like he'd ever been even medley hurt anymore. Dean felt kind of uneasy around him.

'How are you feeling?'

'Great'

'You were lying in the mud injured not half an hour ago and you're great?'

'Sigbins use a poison type thing to make you sleepy when they start their attack, so you can't fight back'

'You didn't mention that before?'

'Must have forgot'

'Are you sure you're okay?'

'Yeah'

'Let me look at where you're bleeding'

'No'

Sam was still staring right through everything. And he never forgets anything when it comes to a hunt, he just adores educating Dean whether Dean wants it or not. _What's going on?_ Dean began to worry the Sigbin might have done something to him that he doesn't know about. He constantly kicked himself for leaving Sam to keep watch. Sitting down on his own bed, he begins to think maybe Sam's acting strange because he's angry, after all Sam wasn't too pleased about being the one to keep watch. Seeing a pissed off Sam was funny at the time.

'Look Sam, I'm sorry alright? I shouldn't have left you there'

'No, you shouldn't'

'What?'

Dean shifted uncomfortably from side to side, the bed creaked slightly underneath him. He'd been expecting Sam to ramble on about how it's no one's fault like he usually does. _Jesus Christ, why did I leave him? Stupid. _Apparently Sam was more than mad about this. Dean could only think he must have been pretty scared, which only made more hate for what he did stir up in his belly, tying to punish him.

'I said, no, you shouldn't'

'Yeah... I hear you' Dean looked up from his shoelaces which were caked in dirt and tied in quick knots rather than bows, finally braving Sam's face which was staring right back with the same cold expression as before. 'Let's just go to bed, we can talk tomorrow'

'I'm going out'

_What?!_ He was gobsmacked, he might be being a little dramatic but Sam always wanted to talk things through _ugh feelings crap _but, more than that, he never wanted to go out and certainly not alone. Sam must be really angry, but that wasn't being conveyed in Sam's voice and certainly not on his face. He didn't know why Sam was acting so strange, he's done worse things before and Sam had reacted a lot less.

'Come on Sam, I've apologised'

'I know, I'm not angry'

Dean watched as Sam changed shirts, the one he was currently wearing was covered in blood and mud. Sam had his back facing him, and Dean let his eyes follow the movement of his muscles, the roll of his shoulders before he snapped out of it and remembered he was supposed to be doing something. He didn't know what he was supposed to be doing. Was it convincing Sam to stay? Apologising? Asking where he's going? Going with him? Asking why he's acting so out of character? He had no clue. Usually, he could read Sam like a book. That's what a lifetime of sleeping in the same bed so their dad could save money, playing games in the back of the impala to keep themselves entertained on long trips, eating facing each other in crappy diners every day and everything else that kept them within such close proximity did. Nevertheless, Sam had stalked right out the room without another word before Dean even had the chance to question him.

He let his body flop down on his bed, not even bothering to get undressed or under the covers. He just stared at the yellowing ceiling and tried to think things through. But, he was too worn out and his mind kept flickering between thoughts; both important and insignificant. He never stopped to concentrate on anything, his mind was like chipper, everything going in only to come out in thousands of different pieces. His eye lids stated to feel heavy and they drooped shut. It took a while for sleep to take him, he kept having to reposition himself because the bed sheets were so damn scratchy, but eventually it did.

ooo

_Big, muscular hands smoothed over his hips, making his top ride up. Rough lips kissed the spot just above the button of his jeans and made him quiver with anticipation. Delicate fingers teased his nipples which hardened under the sweet touch. There was a sturdy leg pressing down on his hard on making him moan. The fabric on his top make his nose itch as it was pulled across his face. Everything was happening all at once, he couldn't get his head around it. There was a nose running a path up his neck to his jaw, where butterfly kisses were placed. Then Sam's face was in front of his, so close the tips of their noses were touching and he had no choice but to let a broad smile break out. He heard himself whisper Sam's name before his brother pressed their lips together. It felt like Sam's hands were everywhere on his body. Sam moaned into his mouth when he reached his own hand down to palm Sam's erection._

ooo

Startled, he shot upright in his bed. In his sleepy state, he didn't bother to look around to see where the loud bang had come from, he didn't bother to try and comprehend what made it, all he thought was _protect Sammy _as if it was programmed into him as he rapidly snaked his hand under his pillow and pulled out his gun.

Of course, he felt like an idiot when he realised the bang was from Sam shutting the door as he came in. Blinking quickly to try and focus his eyes through the dullness of the room, he looked at the clock. The numbers were brutally bright green and it hurt his eyes too look, he thought he could be looking at the Sun and it would feel the same. With difficulty, he read 02.38AM, he sluggishly rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes, trying to force himself to regain some more consciousness; he always found it hard to come round from sleep. He looked from the clock to Sam, who was now digging around in his duffle.

'S'pretty late, where've you been?'

'Out'

That was Sam's only reply. He was about to give Sam the third degree about his where abouts, or have a bitch at him for the ungodly amount of noise he made that woke him up but decided to let it slide. He rolled back down onto the bed and his eyes flittered shut. He noticed for the first time after all the pointless commotion that he was covered in a thin sheet of sweat and he remembered the dream he's just had. Guilt shot through him at once, he felt sick with himself. He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, trying his best to ignore his hard on that was uncomfortably rubbing against the inside of his jeans. _Dreams don't mean anything._

Sam strode across the room to the bathroom where he flicked on a light switch. Dean groaned, the light burned through his eyelids. He opened them again and saw Sam, standing at the end of his bed, staring. _Creepy ass little brother._ He could see Sam properly for the first time in the harsh on his tired eyes light, which also meant he could see the blood staining Sam's T-shirt collar and torso.

Abruptly, he didn't feel so exhausted anymore. He shot out of bed like it was full of spiders all of a sudden and his hand was on Sam's shoulder before he could even breathe.

'Are you okay man, what happened?'

'Pub fight, pretty violent, got caught in the splatter.'

'What? Dude, there's a lot of blood'

'Well, It's not mine'

'Oh'

Dean realised how close he was to Sam's face. He willed himself to move away, Sam was fine, he didn't need any help, but his eyes locked on Sam's lips and he couldn't pull back. His whole mind and body wanted to just lean in a bit. He could almost feel Sam's warm breath, he could certainly smell it and it stank of strong alcohol. That's what pulled Dean out of his twisted fantasy because Sam never drank anything but beer. _What's going on with him?. _He looked at Sam, who was staring at him with that stare that was really starting to make Dean feel extremely uncomfortable. His hand dropped and he nearly ran to his bed, but managed to hold himself back. He wasn't even sure what it was he was running away from. But he convinced himself that he was just giving Sam space.

Sam went into the bathroom and Dean heard the soft sound of water from the shower. Dean didn't think about how close he came to kissing Sam _must be lack of sleep, making me __delirious_, he didn't think about how odd Sam was acting, he didn't think about how there was way too much blood on Sam's T-shirt to be 'splatter'. Well, he did think about all of those things, but he tried increasingly hard not to. Especially that last one, he pushed that from his mind with all the power he had over and over again until finally, he drifted away with the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was lying on a bed when he woke up, but he had no recollection of getting there. He tried to look round at the clock but his head wouldn't turn, he tried to sit up but his body wouldn't move, he tried to call for Dean but no sound came out. He felt overly tired for some reason, he felt strange and uncomfortable but most of all, he felt panicked. _Why can't I move? Where's Dean? _After a few more minutes of helplessly trying to get his limbs to co-operate with his mind, he gave up and came to the conclusion he must be going through sleep paralysis.

When he was about 12 years old, he'd woken up and not been able to move. He remembers feeling some kind of invisible force pinning him onto the bed and wrapping around his neck. He thought it must be some kind of supernatural being that had somehow poisoned him or something. He'd struggled and struggled until eventually, he closed his eyes and waited for death. In those moments while he waited, he thought of Dean. He prayed for the first time ever right there before death. He didn't pray to be saved like one would expect, he prayed that his brother wasn't in the same predicament and would be okay. Later on, he'd woken up sweaty and frightened in the same motel room he'd fell asleep in with Dean staring at him and asking if he was alright. When he shook his head, Dean had crawled in next to him and soothed him. They fell asleep in each other's arms that night. The next day, Sam did what he did best and researched what had happened and read all about sleep paralysis.

This time though, something was different. He couldn't even close his eyes. Then, out of the blue there was a voice.

**_Finally awake I see. Took you long enough. _**

He couldn't see anyone else in the room, but there was something very aberrant about the voice. It was too loud, too close. It seemed like it was coming from within him, like the voice was in his mind. The voice was a mans, very deep and gruff but it felt like someone was scraping their nails at the corners of his mind when he heard it. He tried to pinpoint the voice, to see if it was familiar but felt extremely clouded and thinking to hard made his head ache.

Before he could even begin to comprehend what was happening, he was standing up and walking to the bathroom. But he wasn't doing it, he wasn't controlling himself. _Maybe I'm dreaming. _His body manoeuvred itself in front of the mirror so he could see his reflection.

**_Not a dream Sammy boy._**

His eyes in his reflection swiftly turned all black and the realisation would have probably knocked him off his feet if he was in control of his own body instead of the demon that was possessing him. He instantly recalled everything, the Sigbin, the caves, dean, being on watch, the demon woman with the knife, the black smoke surrounding him. He felt sick and dirty. _You son of a bitch!_

**_Now now, I'd thank you not to be so rude. Remember, I'm in control of this meat now so don't piss me off. _**

It was hard to concentrate on what the demon was saying. He felt spaced out and very, very angry. _Get out, get the fuck out now, you bastard! _He screamed and cursed inside his own mind at the demon.

**_Come on now Sam, don't be like that. We haven't even had a chance to bond yet. The name's Brendon. _**

There was a obscure, half screech, half cackling sound then and Sam could have sworn the demon was laughing at him. But, there wasn't really much chance to think about it before his body was walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom again. Sam stopped dead in his cursing when the demon focused his eyes on Dean, lying asleep on the bed. _Dean? Dean! _Sam hysterically tried to shout for his brother for help or to warn him, he didn't know, but it was useless in any case. He was trapped inside his own body, squashed into a secluded, insignificant part of his mind while something else took over. All he could do was talk to Brendon. _Stay away from him you son of a bitch._ The demon ignored his warnings, Brendon hummed the tune of 'Good day sunshine' by The Beatles as it walked over to the top of Dean's bed, pulled out Sam's small, pointed knife and hovered it over an unaware Dean's throat.

**_If you don't start being civilised then we are going to have a serious problem. You can either carry on shouting in there and doing nothing but annoy me, or you can play nice, got it?_**

Sam stayed quiet. He was shocked. He didn't know why because it wasn't exactly un demon like to be so cruel but seeing a knife over his brothers throat brought everything into perspective. He was suddenly very lucid. He knew how much trouble this could mean and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He was worthless. He could only hope that Dean would be able to tell that the Sam Dean can see isn't really him. The demon packed away the knife and rounded to the other bed.

**_Good choice. Dean's safe as long as you don't piss me off too much. Not that I wouldn't love to tear poor Dean's throat out, but I'm here for a reason. _**

_What's that then? _Sam could hear the snarl in his own voice. Everything about this situation was horrible.

**_All in good time my friend. _**

Sam cringed at the word 'friend'. It was bizarre, being possessed that is, he couldn't move or make his voice be heard, but he could still feel himself moving, could still smell the air, could still feel every emotion. That was the worst part because it meant all of this was real.

**_I'm glad you've come round. It usually takes people a few days to become aware, but you blacked out for only nine hours. I'm impressed Sam. It was hard for me to act as you when you weren't with me because I couldn't know what you were thinking or feeling. It was also a bitch to access your memories. It'll be much easier to fool Dean into thinking nothing is wrong now. I thank you for that. _**

_You dick. What do you even want? _Sam watched as his hands rummaged through his duffle to pull out a bottle of water, then he felt it run down his throat. When it put the water back in his back, he clocked onto a bright red blood stain on one of his shirts. He realised with sickening horror that it was the shirt he cleaned last, so couldn't have blood on it. _What did you do?_

**_I'm under orders from the boss to find out how you're planning on saving Dean's ass from the deal he made, it might take me a while to get it out of you but I will, and then I'll stop you. You see, all of us down there can't wait to get our hands on that grunt of a human. Do you even know how good it's gonna feel when I get my chance to rip him apart with my bare hands?_**

_Shut up. Shut the fuck up now. I won't let that happen. _Sam felt anger, sadness, panic and desperation rolled into one and it made his mind hazy and weak.

**_Oh poor Sammy baby, going to lose his sweet, loving brother. And then who is he going to have? There's no one left for you Sam. Everyone you love dies. _**

Brendon laughed a sinister laugh that chilled Sam.

**_Anyway, back to the point. I also have to collect some blood. Strictly male. Some ritual the boss is doing, don't ask me, I'm just doing my job. That's what I was doing last night. I got a bit carried away and got blood on your shirt, it's not often I get to have fun like this. Let's just hope Dean isn't too suspicious about it, fucking shit woke up and saw me. You should have seen the worried look in his eye when he thought you were hurt, priceless! Strictly speaking, I don't actually need you to get the blood, I could use any poor bastard but, what's that saying? Something about hitting two birds with one stone. _**

_Fuck you. _At that moment Dean stirred, Sam's eyes watched him like a hawk. Dean turned around, squinted at the light seeping through the crack in the curtains and looked at Sam with an expression he couldn't place.

**_Mornin' sunshine!_**

'Morning' Dean grumbled and sat up in bed, never letting Sam leave his sight.

'Morning' Sam felt his lips move and heard his voice floating in the air, but he didn't say it. _Don't you speak to him. _His lips curled up into a grin that didn't belong to him. _Dean! Dean, it's not me. Surely you can see that, it's not me!_

**_There's no point in trying sweetie pie, your precious brother can't hear you. Now, shut up for a bit whilst I look through your pathetic little thoughts and memories._**

There was nothing that the demon could use to take back to this so called boss, Sam knew that because he hadn't the slightest clue how to save Dean. However, there were some things he wanted to hide. Sacred memories and secret thoughts. He had no idea how to block the demon out, he could already feel him, looming over the pictures of Dean helping him up after he fell when he was five years old. Brendon was relentlessly invasive, shifting through memories and making snarky, snide comments.

Sam envisioned a barrier that covered his favourite memory; it was a day when it was just him and Dean when they were teenagers. Dean had took him to this cabin, where they jumped and splashed in the river, lay on the grass eating ice pops and ten Dean cooked them Sam's favourite food and the fell asleep in each other's arms on the couch whilst watching Sam's favourite movie. It was the best memory because he forgot about everything that day and just lived for what felt like the first time. The barrier he imagined was like a big black splodge that dotted out the picture, he didn't know why he tried it; it just felt right. Apparently, it worked.

**_You little fucker, what are you hiding?_**

_None of your business. _And Sam wasn't lying, he didn't hide it because Brendon would be able to use it against him, but because he didn't feel like sharing it. The next thing he hid was much more important. He engulfed it in the darkest, thickest barrier he could. What he hid was his true feelings for Dean because, if Brendon got a hold of that, he could ruin everything.

**_You don't think I will be able to break down these walls? All I have to do is wait for you to stop concentrating on keeping them up. You can't do it forever. Then I'll see your dumb plan about how to save your brother ass. _**

_The heck I can. _He would protect it with his life if he could, because if Dean found out then he would leave and that wasn't a life worth living anyway. Dean was just standing up now, stretching and yawning and talking to the thing he thought was Sam.

'I'm gonna get a shower'

'Alright, I'll go get some coffee'

ooo

The coffee shop was like hell for Sam. The demon was endlessly pushing him, putting images in his head of brutally murdering everyone there.

**_Oh she's pretty, isn't she? I bet she'd look better strapped down to a table, while you carve into her. _**

_You sick bastard. _Sam tried his best to ignore Brendon's teasing, but it was more than difficult seeing as the demon was inside him. Brendon paid the woman at the counter with Sam's money. Sam heard himself say 'thanks doll' and internally cringed. _I would never say that._

**_Doesn't matter, I only have to put up the Sam act when around Dean. And now, I can see all of your sad little thoughts, so it shouldn't be too hard. All I have to do is mope around, you're pathetic Sam. You cling on to everything._**

Sam knew the demon was right; it didn't matter how he acted in front of anyone but Dean. Sam started to doubt Dean would see it wasn't him. Brendon had bought coffee just like Dean likes it because he knows that stuff now. _Damnit. _

**_If you'd just let me past those dark spots, I'll leave. I'm going to break you anyway, so why not give in? Dean's going to the pit, accept it. _**

_No. _Sam felt crushed and deflated. The demon only reminded him that he didn't have a plan, didn't know how to save his brother. If he can't even do that then he's worthless. Sam was snapped out of his thoughts on the way back to the motel, passing a playground when Brendon spoke again.

**_Oh look at her!_**

He was referring to a little girl with long, blonde hair. She had a small frame and big green eyes with rosy cheeks. She was playing on her own in the playground with some barbies. Sam had no choice but to look at her seen as Brendon could control where he looked.

**_Isn't she a cutie? All alone too, I wonder who would miss her. _**

Without warning, Sam was flooded in images of his hands being used cruelly chop her hair off with a sharp blade whilst she cried for her mother. Then, the knife he was holding gently caressed her cheek before pressing down and drawing blood.

_Enough! Stop it! You black eyed freak! Get out! _Rage was all Sam felt. The fake images of the girl felt like they were burning his very soul, he couldn't stand this, it was too overwhelmingly disturbing. He shouted and screamed at Brendon, willing him away, but the demon just laughed.

**_You've got to be more careful Sammy boy. If I knew that something as little as that was all it took to break you I would have done it straight away. You made that far too easy. Boring really. _**

Sam instantly knew what he was talking about; he'd stopped concentrating on the walls. If it could, he was pretty sure his heart would leap out of his chest with fright and he urgently tried to cover the broken walls.

**_Too late Sam. I already saw. Was that seriously it? You don't even have a plan to save your brother! That's brilliant Sam, great job. You're brother is destined to spend an eternity in hell, hurting like you couldn't even imagine and you can't help him. Can't save your own brother. That's gotta sting. _**

Brendon laughed. Sam felt strangled, he wished that he would stop. _I'll find a way._

**_No you won't. And, I doubt Dean will want your half assed attempt at help when he finds out how you really feel. That's messed up. You know wanting your brother like that is a sin right? You see, me and you aren't really that different are we?_**

_Shut up. He isn't going to find out. _

**_You're so damn needy Samantha, I've never seen anything like it. If I had a heart, it might even break knowing anything can be this pathetic. _**

Through all the desperation and fear, Sam barely even realised they were at the front door of the motel. His love felt magnified by about one hundred knowing that the last time he sees Dean might be when he's being possessed. He watched as his hand rested on the door handle.

**_Let's see what Dean-o thinks about this shall we? Time to confess your feelings I think._**

_No! Wait! Please. Please don't. Oh god, please. _Begging to a demon was the very last thing Sam wanted to do.

**_Begging? This just gets better and better. _**

_He can't find out. You tell him and I swear I'll kill you myself. _

**_Ooo, I'm quaking in my boots... or rather, your boots._**

Brendon used Sam to open to door and walk into the room, Dean was leaning over his bed, digging through his duffle for god knows what but he looked up and smiled when Sam entered.

'I got your coffee'

'Better not be cold'

'Stop whining'

Dean was smiling throughout the small conversation, and Sam could feel the smile playing across his own lips, drawing Dean in and he resented it. _Dean, stop talking to it! _He felt a solid surface beneath him and realised he was sitting on a bed now.

**_Show time._**

'Dean?'

Sam heard how small his voice was, how frightened it sounded and the question in it, like he was testing the waters. He knew Dean would fall for it, it was a tone he'd used many times when he was younger, and Dean would hear the child that seemed to be trapped inside and listen to every word the demon spewed out.

'Yeah Sammy, what's wrong?'

Dean was seated next to him now, he could feel the warm length of his leg pressed up against his own, but it wasn't how he wanted to feel it; it seemed far away and unreachable and all he could feel inside was a sick sense of longing.

**_This is too easy._**

He didn't want to see the horrified look on Dean's face. He didn't want to hear this, not out loud. Even if it wasn't him controlling the words, they were still the truth and hearing them would only confirm his disgusting feelings, it would no longer be something that was hidden away under the cruel reality that is life, it would be mercilessly flung out into the open for all to see. Slowly, he began to slip away back into deep darkness he tried so hard to dig himself out f when he was first possessed. Everything around started to fade into a dull jumble of colours that were hardly distinguishable. He wondered idly if he would ever come back if he let himself go now.

**_Come on! Stick around, don't wanna miss all the fun do you?_**

'I think we need to talk, well, I... I need to tell you something'

'What Sam, what is it? Are you okay?'

Dean's voice sounded stern now, but the worry was still evident underneath it all. The thing that snapped Sam out of his self pity was Dean's hand on his leg. The room was abruptly full of colour that into pierced his mind. He came to a harsh realisation that he has to fight. He couldn't leave Dean now and he couldn't allow Brendon to force Dean away. All the emotions he could feel bubbled up to the surface; anger at Brendon, desperation to be free, longing for this to stop, love for his brother, depression thinking of what consequences might come if Brendon won. The loathing for Brendon was used as an engine that kicked everything into place. He felt emotins he didn't even know were possible as shouted and screamed and pushed Brendon away. _Dean! Dean please! Don't listen to him! It's not me, it's not me. Help me Dean, come on. Don't you dare say anything to him you black eyed son of a bitch. Stay away. Get out! Dean? I need you._

'Dean! It's not me!'

The words echoed through the room, reverberated off the walls. Sam fell silent in his own mind, shocked that he'd taken back control for a moment. When he eventually did collect himself together enough to try again, nothing came out. He felt cold inside, as if he was filled with ice or Dean wasn't sat right there. He guessed that meant Brendon was angry. The words still lingered in the air, and Dean knitted his brows together.

'Sammy? What do you mean... What's not you?'

**_Big mistake, Sammy._**

'Sam?'

Instantaneously, he was standing and towering above Dean. For a moment, he thought Brendon was going to hit Dean but instead he saw the door getting closer as he walked away.

'Sam, where are you going? Talk to me!'

**_You're going to pay for that Sam. Think you can just ruin my plans and get away with it?_**

'Sam!'

Sam didn't answer, he marched straight out of the motel room. Not because he was hurt or angry or upset with Dean. He didn't answer because something else was wearing him but all he wanted to do was answer. The door slammed shut behind him.

_I would never storm out like that. Not that it matters now, he's going to figure out what just happened and send you right to hell._

**_Don't you think I know that he'll figure it out? But he's not sending me to hell. I'm going to finish this getting blood job for my boss and to do that I need two more males. One I'll find on the street, the second will be Dean._**

_You wouldn't dare. Besides, you won't get the chance. _

**_I wasn't planning on killing Dean, you know, out of the kindness of my heart and all. But you've pissed me off now, so no sympathy. That was idiotic. Don't you see what you've done?_**

Sam didn't answer. He had done what was necessary to get Dean to see what was going on and to stop Brendon from ruining everything but now, he was doubting his decision. Brendon looked around as he trotted down the street, scanning everyone to see if they were a suitable victim for his plan. Sam just hoped. All he could do was hope. He that Dean figured out that he was possessed and be prepared for when he returned.


End file.
